*
Home
Submit
Login
Site Links
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Videos
Resources
Syllable Counter
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Card Maker
Classifieds
Quotes
Short Stories
*
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Videos
Resources
Syllable Counter
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Quotes
Short Stories
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 216.73.216.128
From Email:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
The mountains are cold and blue now And the autumn waters have run all day. By my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind. Sunset lingers at the ferry, Supper-smoke floats up from the houses. ...Oh, when shall I pledge the great Hermit again And sing a wild poem at Five Willows?
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required